


Corral Dust

by WarAgainstReality



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-13 03:10:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5692360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarAgainstReality/pseuds/WarAgainstReality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wild West AU. The town of Providence is about to be shook up. The Morningstars have just moved into town, the Winchester brothers are hunting the infamous Arikara Outlaw, and a woman now owns the local bar/saloon. Things are just getting started. Prepare for train robberies,revenge, intense flirting, terrible tempers, and the possibility of love. Who knows what happens in the Wild West?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. With a Bang

It all started a long time ago but no one knew that until this moment. The sun was setting on the town of Providence as a trio stepped off of the train into a new life. The newlywed Morningstars followed by their 20-something year old daughter are where our story begins. It was funny. Meg Masters, she refused to take her new father’s name, was never so excited or so afraid; not that she would show it, of course. The only thought on her mind was her friend hidden somewhere among the townsfolk.

The doors of Bad Beat are open. A young calamity jane sits behind the bar ready to serve any poor sod in need of a drink. The patrons knew the rules. They kept the noise to a minimum and took any urge to “shoot it out” outside of her doors. Through a hint of luck, excellent deduction, and pure skill, Charlie Bradbury had won the place in a game of cards inside its very doors. To her amusement, the owner had left town in shame. He had been an old drunk anyway.

“Charlotte, you need to give up this ridiculous notion,” her mother sighed. “Whether you call it a bar or a saloon, this is not ladylike. You need to settle down and give me some grandchildren. You are a woman of education. Act like it.”

“The name’s Charlie, and I have no interest whatsoever in settling down, mother,” she sighed for the millionth time. “I want an adventure, a life of my own. I don’t want to give up everything before it’s even begun. This place is mine and something big is about to happen. I can feel it.”

Her mother opened her mouth to argue but was interrupted by a call from around the corner, “Hey, Gert. I hear Johnathon’s looking for ya. Don’t wanna leave the husband hangin’.”

She stormed through the door, her back perfectly straight and her nose in the air, at the same moment that Meg stumbled inside and collapsed onto a bar stool, “Hey there, sunshine. Got a drink with my name on it?”

Meanwhile, two bounty hunters were just crossing the town line. Their horses were tired and the trail had run cold. The Winchester brothers were after their biggest mark yet. The bounty was enough to set them up for a lifetime. They were ready to collapse in exhaustion when they headed over to the local inn. When Sam heard an excited bark, he bent down immediately to stroke the golden fur of the hound in front of him.

“Wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a man drawled from behind the counter. “Archangel is a strange one. It would be a shame for him to ruin that pretty-boy face.”

“The pup seems fine to me,” Sam countered as she rolled onto her stomach for a belly rub. “She’s friendlier than my brother. That’s for sure.”

“Archangel’s the owner not the hound,” the man smirked. “Ole’ Lucy wouldn’t hurt a fly. Michael, on the other hand, scares the hell out of most people; the ones who don’t play by the rules in particular. There’s a reason he’s called the Archangel after all. You know holy vengeance and all that.”

“Well, then we won’t have a problem,” Dean smirked back confidently. “We’re here to catch the Arikara Outlaw. No lawman should have a problem with that. Not unless they’re crooked anyways.”

A deep chuckle made both Winchesters turn on the spot in alarm, “I do not suggest you say that in front of Michael. He is quite the champion for justice, but his temper could use some work. That would only end in a visit to Doctor Solo.”

“Inias,” the man nodded to the person behind the counter. ‘Inias’ tipped his hat with a small smile, “Sheriff.”

The mysterious sheriff was about to walk away when a dark haired woman appeared beside Inias. She rushed to the door and looked over at the sheriff with a hopeful expression.

“Castiel, are you coming to the Sunday service?” she called out. “We’ve missed you.”

“I am sorry, Hannah,” he sighed. “I am busy with my duties. I have lost faith in a being that allows evil to run amuck and the innocent to die so easily. I cannot waste my time when there are people in need. If not him, someone must protect them.”

“That’s never stopped Michael from attending,” she murmured as Castiel walked back towards his post.

The Winchesters followed without a word. Who better to ask about local suspicious activity than the sheriff? He did seem like a bit of an odd stick, but the people seemed to trust him. The Archangel Michael guy, on the other hand, sounded like the type to bury you in the desert without a second thought… well maybe after a prayer. He was apparently the pious type.

“Michael, these men are here to catch the Arikara Outlaw,” Castiel said with a dry smile. “Do you have any information to share?”

Michael was about to open his mouth when Dean butted in, “I’m sorry but that pretty-boy is the deputy?,” he choked out between laughs. “This is the famous Archangel that your friend was shooting his mouth off about?”

Michael’s fists were clenched at his side, and there was pure murder in his eyes. He was keeping himself under control, but it was clearly taking every bit of strength he had.

“And you’re the sheriff?” Dean continued despite Sam’s attempts to silence him. “A dragged out old coot like you? This town must really be up the spout.”

Two seconds later the room was only filled with Michael’s labored breathing. Blood dripped from his knuckles, and, with a sudden bang, Dean lay unconscious at his feet. Castiel and Sam just stood there in shocked silence.

“I suppose we should call Doctor Solo,” Castiel sighed looking from Michael’s clearly injured hands to the unconscious body. “You have to stop defending me. It does not matter what people say.Those who matter respect the both of us."


	2. Out of the Bag

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doc Solo makes a house call, secrets are revealed, and an assassin rides into town with a serious ax to grind.

“How’s he lookin’, doc?” Sam murmured as the doctor looked over his brother.

“I’m going to have to reset his nose,” Doc Solo sighed. “You should probably leave him be for a while too. Head injuries are tricky. There’s a chance of a concussion.”

“You think this is bad, you should see the other guy,” Dean smirked leaning back against his pillow.

“No need. You poked fun at the sheriff, didn’t you?” The doctor chuckled. “The deputy doesn’t take kindly to that type of talk. I’ll get him in later and take a look at that hand. From the look of your face, there’d have to be some damage.”

“We’re on a big hunt. I don’t have time to hang around,” Dean growled. “The bounty on this one’s enough to set us up for life. I’m not just gonna sit around and let him get away.”

“Until further notice, you’re benched,” Doc Solo’s voice was hard. “Are you going to listen or do I need to get someone to babysit you?”

“How long?” Dean groaned. “I don’t have enough time to waste it lying about.”

“Until I say so,” Doc Solo smirked. “Rest you addle-headed sot.”

Dean groaned in protest from the bed. It was so unfair. He prodded fun at some odd stick and ended up benched. Sam said he would keep an eye out for any activity, but now he was a man down. The bounty was so high for a reason. The Arikara Outlaw was a rattler: a slippery snake that gives the briefest of warnings before sinking its venom tinged fangs into your jugular. His brother shouldn’t be alone on this hunt. If things didn’t go well, he would end up just like their father.

Meanwhile, the sheriff headed back to Doc Solo’s place with Michael in tow. The sun was high in the sky. All that could be seen were their outlines as they approached. Michael dragged his boot-clad feet trying to do anything to slow their arrival. There was a reason Michael had never been to see Doc Solo after all. Some secrets are better left untold. Sheriff Castiel was apparently not going to let that happen. Suddenly, Michael found himself shoved through Doc’s door stumbling to keep his balance.

“Lex!” Doc Solo exclaimed. “What are you-“

Michael clasped his hand over the doctor’s mouth before he could utter another word, “Tran. So this ‘Doc Solo’ that just showed up to town is you? Last time I checked you were a bartender. A dead bartender.”

“Last time I checked, you were a woman,” Kevin Tran smirked. “It seems like both of us aren’t exactly being honest with the unsuspecting town folk. Apparently neither of us is having any problems with the façade, eh Archangel.”

“What do you want? I’m not leaving my post,” Michael glared. “It’s all I have left. Providence is the only home I have.”

“Quid pro quo, Alexis,” Kevin chuckled. “Someone wants to put a bullet in my head. You keep quiet, I keep quiet. It’s as simple as that.”

“I hope you have learned from all of these stories,” Michael said gripping Kevin’s hand tightly as they shook hands. “Do not cross me. You won’t last long otherwise. Don’t give me a reason to be your enemy.”

“I have plenty of enemies now,” Kevin groaned. “I don’t need the dear old departed tailor’s daughter turning on me. It’s just sad when friends turn into enemies.”

“I’ll give you one piece of friendly advice: Watch yourself. Word on the street is that Reaper’s on your heels. I guess you’re not as good at playing dead as you thought,” Michael grimaced as Kevin began to examine her hand.

“Yeah, I know that. Why do you think I’m incognito?”

“Solo is a little flashy for incognito,” Michael laughed. “You always were the showy type.”

“Says the one who dresses in drag?” Kevin laughed back. “Neither of us has a stone to throw in this glass house.”

* * *

 

Charlie had given Meg a job. Her mother had only been married to that deadbeat Lucian Morningstar for a month, and he had already drained their bank account dry. Despite his charm and smooth talking, it was hard to think of him as the mourning husband he claimed to be while he wasted every penny they owned on cards and whiskey. Medicine costs money. Without it, Annabelle Morningstar would surely die.For a moment, all of this was pushed out of both girls’ minds as she saw the dark stranger ride into town. 

The man rode a jet black stallion. Both the man and the horse seemed wild and elicited an instant feeling of fear. He was dressed in a mix of leather and hide. His boots and duster were worn and dotted with distinct rusty stains. Atop his head he wore the remains of a bloodstained indian chieftain’s headdress. It was reduced to the intricately woven leather band and a few feathers tangled in his overgrown hair. Everyone stared until the man walked into Bad Beat. Only one man kept eye contact as the man walked into the saloon: Lucian Morningstar. His eyes were hard and angry for a moment, and then he returned to his cards and whiskey as if nothing had happened.

“You,” the man growled pointing at Charlie. “Get the owner.”

“That would be me,” she said holding her ground. “The old drunk lost it in a game of cards. The place is mine.”

“I’m looking for someone,” his voice sounded like gravel from disuse. “Name’s Tran. He should be new. Who’s gonna give him up?”

“I hate to break it to you, sunshine, but no one wants to deal with the infamous Reaper,” a man smirked from the corner. “Everyone knows what happens when your associates outlive their usefulness. I suggest you keep things civil. Despite the entertainment factor, I think a shootout between two legendary bad asses would probably turn this town into swiss cheese.”

Meg stuck her head out from around the counter, “Wait, Kevin Tran? Didn’t he have a little accident by a set of train tracks? I heard he was so scared that he took the easy way out.”

“Don’t talk to him, Meg. Reaper is pure unadulterated trouble,” Charlie grimaced. “And Zmey shut it. I don’t care how big you think you are, Gabriel. I’m the one who’ll have to clean you up off my floors when he’s done. Not inside my bar.”

Suddenly Michael walked into the saloon to have a drink. Everyone just turned to stare in both anticipation and fear. She didn’t do anything. She simply slipped onto a stool at the bar and tossed Charlie a bill.

“Give me something hard,” Michael smiled tiredly. “It’s been a long day.”

Charlie smiled back with a slight blush and hurried to make the drink as Michael finally noticed the strange man a few stools down, “Adam Milligan, I presume. It’s clear that no one here is willing to cooperate with your brand of justice. I suggest you leave as soon as you finish your drink. Miss Charlotte has enough work to do without you causing trouble and scaring off her patrons.”

“Only because you asked so nicely, Archangel,” Adam smirked. “I’ll be back, and I will find who I’m looking for. Just because some fools believe he took a dive doesn’t mean I do. I always finish my jobs. I’ll be back and he will die.”

* * *

Adam was about to leave the bar when he heard them. The two men were laughing as they headed towards the local inn. They had probably left this place right before he had arrived. He didn’t need an introduction to know just who he had spotted. The features were the same as he remembered. He pulled the tattered old photograph from his bag. They fit the profile and were the right age.

“You,” he barked pulling Meg across the counter. “Are they named Winchester?!"

Before she could answer, there were three guns pointed at his head. Cas had just stepped inside when he saw what was going down. Michael had been prepared for trouble the moment she spotted Reaper sitting at the bar. Charlie was the one who surprised them most.

“I don’t tolerate people manhandling my friends,” she growled. “You’re cut off. Permanently. Get out and don’t come back.”

“I’ll be waiting if you do,” Michael glared cocking his gun and placing it against Adam’s temple. “You’re not welcome in this saloon. Leave now and we’ll let you walk out unharmed.”

“You are not welcome in this town any longer,” Cas spoke up his gravelly voice harsh. “We do not allow savages and brutes inside our city.”

“You’ll regret this. I would say to ask the Arikaras,” he smirked motioning to the ruined headdress. “But they aren’t around to answer.”

Suddenly there was a simple knife with a leather handle at his throat. Cold green eyes met icy blue. Lucian Morningstar stood face to face with Adam Milligan. He kept a small frightening smile plastered on his face as he let the knife slightly nick the flesh.

“Threats are useless here. You’re outnumbered and surrounded,” Lucian’s voice was soft but in an unpleasant way: the calm before the storm. “You have no right to threaten the people of this town. You have no right to threaten my family. Leave before it isn’t your choice.”

Adam stormed from the bar slamming the door with enough force to shake the frame. The sun had set and darkness had taken over the land. Adam preferred it that way. Darkness made everything easier. Oh, and the fear it caused his prey was enough to make chills run up his arms. It was completely his element. His stride was sure as he stalked into the inn and pulled the hotel registry from behind the desk and scanned through the names.

“Room 10-Sam and Dean Winchester,” His voice was full of venom as he whispered, “I remember you. Oh, how you’ll wish I didn’t remember you when this is all said and done. I look forward to meeting you, my brothers.”


End file.
